


Yours

by OneofWebs



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Feminization, Humiliation, Kissing, Lingerie, M/M, Making Out, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Eddie Gluskin prefers the term connoisseur to pimp, but the message is the same. He sells sex. He sells the fantasy. All the while, he gets to truly live his own fantasy where Waylon Park is the finest partner a man could ask for. That certainly doesn't mean that Eddie won't try and push his buttons. What's one harmless blowjob, anyway?
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	Yours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mutemail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutemail/gifts).



> This is my first Weddie fic ever. My first Outlast fic ever. Of course it's porn and AU but like nobody can blame me for this, right? Self indulgence is the name of the game and I am a winner.
> 
> Pimp!Eddie Au and Waylon is kinda his sugar baby but they're dating shhh this is just for the smut. Story time later.

There were moans from the other side of the door, but that wasn’t the odd part. This was a whorehouse. Moaning came with the territory. It was _Eddie_ _’s_ whorehouse, but that didn’t mean Eddie was supposed to be the one moaning. Eddie sold the merchandise; he didn’t partake in it. Yet, those were very _clearly_ Eddie’s moans that Waylon could hear through the door. Anyone else, being Eddie’s partner, would have been upset. But this wasn’t the first time that Waylon had walked in on a situation like this, and he was beginning to find it more annoying than upsetting.

He’d met Eddie two years prior. Waylon had been down on his luck, and when a well-dressed man swooped down with all intentions to help him, Waylon wasn’t about to say no. Maybe the beginning of their relationship hadn’t been entirely, morally pure, but it wasn’t about that, anymore. Eddie _loved_ him. At the end of the workday, it didn’t matter what Eddie did in his business, because he always came back to Waylon. He always came back to the bed they shared in the home they’d made.

Still, that didn’t mean that Eddie had to play stupid games like this. Waylon knew how much Eddie enjoyed those _games_. The only way for Waylon to truly enjoy those games was to not partake in them at all. Waylon pushed through the door, fully intending to go about his business without any reaction to whatever he would find. All of the hard moments spent steeling himself wouldn’t have properly prepared him for what he saw. Waylon had just lost Eddie’s game, and he hadn’t even played.

Eddie was sitting on the ratty old couch, leaning against the cushions with one of his arms flung over the back. His other hand was tangled up in the long, blonde hair of the girl between his spread knees. She was wearing nothing more than a skimpy little thing, her heavy tits bouncing with the roll of her body. Waylon didn’t even pay her a glance. As much Waylon didn’t like it when Eddie chose to play with his blonde girls, it was her _partner_ that had Waylon folding his arms and frowning.

Eddie didn’t just sell female whores. It was the twenty-first century, and people wanted more than the social norm. Eddie was a fine connoisseur of all wares, and that included male whores, dressed down in skimpy little leather speedos. This was one of Eddie’s best-selling boys. He was pleasingly lean, strong, and _blond_. He didn’t look anything like Waylon when you saw him, but from behind, really, the mop of blond hair just really made Waylon’s blood boil.

And Eddie grinned at him, all toothy and smug, proud of himself. He leaned his head back into the couch and groaned, his hips bucking as the girl sunk her lips around the head of his cock. Eddie’s cute little blond boy was dragging his lips and tongue over the base of Eddie’s cock, one hand massaging over his thigh while the other fondled his balls. Where there wasn’t lips or a mouth, the girl covered with her hand, holding Eddie’s cock still so she could suck and lap her tongue over the tip.

Waylon watched with way too close an eye, the way the girl worked her lips over Eddie’s prick like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she had any right to have her hands and her mouth on Eddie. She moaned against him, and Eddie _reacted_. He tugged her a little closer, pulling at her hair, and had her sinking farther down over his cock with a wordless command. Eddie took the boy by his hair, too, and pushed him down farther so he would take Eddie’s sac into his mouth.

The girl was still rolling her hips, breasts bouncing. She was grinding down on Eddie’s shoe. His fine, Italian leather shoe was right between her thighs, and she was dragging her covered cunt over every crease and stitch of it, moaning around Eddie’s cock as she looked for her own pleasure.

Waylon was trying hard to ignore the way that his cock was stiffening in his pants. Eddie was right there. _His_ Eddie was right there, his cock on full display, taking his pleasure from whores. There was no reason Waylon needed to be growing uncomfortably aroused. It wasn’t fair.

The worst part was that Eddie knew what he was doing. He’d heard Waylon come in and had sent him the sort of smirk that always made Waylon weak in the knees. Eddie pushed the girl off of his cock, then, and pulled the boy up. He was entirely in control, and where Waylon could see that both of the whores wanted nothing more but to have their mouth on their master’s cock, Eddie was in charge of who got to have what they wanted. He fed his cock straight down the boy’s throat and listened to the way he gagged, groaning in response.

Eddie pushed the girl’s head down to where her chin rested on the couch. She whimpered, leaning forward to tentatively lick over the seam of Eddie’s balls. Once he was perfectly content again, carding his hair through the boy’s hair, he finally gave Waylon a proper look. None of that overly smug crap he was doing before. It was like he was trying to pretend he hadn’t even noticed Waylon and didn’t have two blond whores fighting over his cock on purpose.

“Darling,” Eddie said, and Waylon cursed the way he shivered. “Won’t you come sit with me?”

“No,” Waylon said, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t going to give into Eddie’s little game.

“Oh, you’re angry, aren’t you? Waylon, darling, you know it’s just work. Somebody has to keep these _whores_ in line,” he sneered the last bit, wrenching the boy off of his cock. The boy whimpered in response, his hips wriggling with his desperation. Waylon could have grimaced.

“Right now?” Waylon pressed. “You knew I was stopping by.”

Eddie just hummed, leaning into his first to properly leer at Waylon. “Did we have an appointment?” he asked.

Right. Because they _needed_ an appointment to see each other. Eddie was just trying to get under his skin, and Waylon knew it. That didn’t mean it wasn’t working. Eddie loved to see just how he could work Waylon up—and what a way to do it. Eddie sucked in a deep breath, lulling his head back and letting his eyes close. The two whores were working in tandem, licking and sucking up the sides of his cock, dragging light touches along the underside.

“You could always join us, darling,” Eddie said, but his voice was clearly straining. He always tried to keep himself composed around the _merchandise_ , but sometimes, it was a difficult endeavor. “I’m sure I have some whore around here who’d be willing to play with you.”

“I don’t want to play with your whores, Eddie.”

Eddie’s breath hitched. “Jealous?” he played. “Tell the truth, darling. You know how I feel about liars.”

Waylon worried at his bottom lip. He wanted to insist that he _wasn_ _’t_ jealous, that this wasn’t getting under his skin in every way possible, but that would be a lie. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind a little lie for the game, but Eddie had asked for the _truth_. He wasn’t in the mood for those kinds of games, and Waylon was always faster to cave to Eddie’s version of the game than Eddie was to his. That was just how Waylon liked it.

“I am,” Waylon muttered.

“What was that, darling? Let’s not mumble, shall we?”

“I said _I_ _’m jealous_.”

“Oh, now,” Eddie offered a mock sympathetic smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Waylon shook his head.

“Your words, darling. Use your words.”

“ _No_ , Eddie. It wasn’t hard, at all.”

Eddie gave Waylon a smile and then snapped. He grabbed each of the whores by their hair and pulled them back, his face suddenly much darker than it’d been when he looked at Waylon.

“Away with you, sluts,” he growled at them.

Both of them scrambled to their feet, stumbling in their haste to do as Eddie said. The girl even wrapped her arms around her chest to cover herself. That was something Eddie was trying to work out of her, but his eyes were on Waylon, now. He could see the outline of Waylon’s cock in his pants, straining from that little display. And even now, with the whores gone out the other door, Eddie’s own cock was still standing hard, dripping precum from the tip, slick with saliva.

Eddie leaned back into the couch, watching the way Waylon was watching him. Waylon wasn’t even trying to hide his staring, following one particular bead of precum as it dripped down the length of Eddie’s shaft. Waylon gulped, taking a hesitant step forward. Eddie hadn’t called for him, but he had sent the whores away. That meant something, right? Eddie surely meant for that to say that this was Waylon’s time now, even if they were _at work_.

Because of how they met, Eddie had always made sure Waylon understood that he was not anywhere near what these whores were—a transactional piece. Waylon wasn’t for sale. Eddie wasn’t buying. Eddie loved him, and that was why they did what they did. That was why they lived together, and Eddie paid for Waylon’s schooling, his new laptop. Eddie was just in a better financial place than Waylon. Waylon didn’t _owe_ him sex, even if, originally, that might have been the agreement. Waylon did what he did because he wanted to.

“Are you coming over, darling? Or am I going to have to finish this myself? Hm?” Eddie grinned at him.

And sometimes, he did it because Eddie’s voice made him lose all feeling in his knees. Because he _wanted_ to crawl into Eddie’s lap and run his fingers through his hair, the pin-prickly feeling of the shaved sides of his head, but a little invitation never hurt anyone.

The difference between Waylon and those whores was he wasn’t about to scramble over Eddie like he was an insatiable, needy little slut. He was—but he made Eddie work for it. He had that distinct privilege of getting to play his own games.

He took his time walking across the room. There wasn’t much distance, but he could still go slow. He could watch how it made Eddie squirm with expectation, wondering all the ways this might go down when Waylon finally made it to the couch. There was a twitch in his hand, Eddie’s own desire to grab at his cock and find release faster than Waylon would help him. But he held firm, biting down on his knuckles and watching the sway in Waylon’s hips. He was more enchanting than he knew.

When Waylon finally made his way over to the couch, his stupid, plaid yellow shirt was hanging open. The long expanse of his chest, down to the waistline of his pants. Eddie took his careful time dragging his gaze from the sharp line of Waylon’s collarbone down to that waistline, where he was tantalizingly smooth.

“You’re a minx,” Eddie breathed. “Making me wait for it, are you?”

Waylon gave an affirmative hum, shrugging his shirt off of his shoulders and letting it drape around his elbows. He crawled into Eddie’s lap, then, straddling him and grinding down into his cock. The rough fabric of his jeans had Eddie hissing through his teeth, but he didn’t do a thing. He was curious to watch where this would go, to see what Waylon had in mind.

Waylon took his sweet time rolling his hips, grinding down into Eddie’s cock. Eddie watched the slow movement of his hips, biting down on his lip to keep himself contained. It wasn’t often he let Waylon get away with such naughty behavior, but even when cool metal of his zipper caught Eddie’s cock, he didn’t so much as hiss. He reached out to steady himself with a firm grip on Waylon’s hip, instead, leaning his head back into the couch to lose himself in the feeling. It was just the right amount of _rough_.

When Waylon leaned in to mouth along Eddie’s neck, he took a sharp intake of breath. Waylon continued to roll his hips, but now he was sucking on one particular spot over Eddie’s pulse point that had his eyes rolling back. Eddie’s hips bucked, trying to find friction between the air and Waylon’s jeans—and then Waylon stopped moving. He pulled away from Eddie’s neck and grinned at him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” Eddie warned.

“Am I?” Waylon leaned in so their breaths mingled, that their noses nearly touched. “You’re such a big man, can’t you just take what you want? You’re not afraid, are you?” Waylon pressed the sweetest, gentlest kiss to Eddie’s lips that he could manage. “Don’t you want this?”

Eddie surged up and, with the wonderful help of how Waylon’s shirt was draped around his elbows, wrenched Waylon’s arms around his back and held a hand to his throat.

“I tell you time and time again, darling, that you are nothing like those _whores_. But I think you want to be, don’t you? You want me to shove your face into the floor and treat you like dirty merchandise, because that’s what you are. A rotten little slut, yes,” Eddie crooned, right up against the side of Waylon’s face. “I will teach you your place, Waylon. You only need ask.”

Waylon let out a breathy little gasp, wriggling his hips again in a desperate attempt to find pleasure. Eddie simply pulled his arms again, restraining him further. He ghosted his fingers over Waylon’s neck, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with every nervous swallow. Eddie was quite pleased with it.

“Use your words,” Eddie whispered. “Good whores speak when they’re spoken to, yet not out of turn. Do you understand?”

Waylon nodded. “T-teach me my place, Eddie. Please,” he whimpered. “I want to be the only one who can please you.”

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, darling, you already are.”

Eddie pulled Waylon into a heavy kiss, their teeth knocking through the force of it. Eddie carded his hands through Waylon’s hair, tilting and turning his head until he was exactly where Eddie wanted him. Waylon desperately rutted his hips down into Eddie’s lap. He had no reason not to look as desperate as he felt, and Eddie stroked through his hair appreciatively. He loved, loved when Waylon was honest with himself, with how he craved Eddie’s cock.

When Waylon’s rutting got just a bit much for Eddie’s taste, he pulled his hand from Waylon’s hair to slap his ass instead. Waylon jolted in his lap, moaning into their kiss. There was saliva dripping down from his lips in his desperation to get closer, to kiss harder, and Eddie obliged him all too well. Waylon would be the most spoiled whore he ever taught, and that was just fine. He was _Eddie_ _’s_ private little whore; he could be as needy as he wanted.

Then, there was tongue, sliding across Waylon’s lips in such a slow, tantalizing manner that Waylon gasped. He parted his lips for Eddie, but Eddie just continued to explore. He bit down on Waylon’s lip, tugged at it, and relished in the way that he squirmed. Waylon gave him these beautiful, breathy little noises, and Eddie swallowed them. He licked over Waylon’s lips, nipping where he could, before he finally pressed their lips together again. Waylon moaned for him, and Eddie rewarded him with a tongue down his throat.

Eddie dragged his tongue over Waylon’s teeth, over the roof of his mouth. Waylon fell apart in his lap, shivering and rolling his hips shamelessly. Eddie allowed it, working his hand down the back of Waylon’s pants to grab at the plump skin of his ass. But there was something _more_. Something soft. Something silky smooth beneath Eddie’s touch that had him pulling away from the kiss. He nearly laughed at the way Waylon watched the string of saliva snap between them, a desperate little look in his eye.

“What’s this?” Eddie asked. “Do you have a treat for me, darling? Something you want me to see?”

Waylon nodded.

“Let’s see you, then.”

Waylon stepped back off of Eddie’s lap, finally allowed the use of his arms, again. He stood just far enough away that Eddie would be able to watch him, be able to _savor_ him. Eddie always watched with a close eye, and this time, he took the chance to wrap a hand around his own cock. He stroked himself slowly, never once taking his eyes off of Waylon and his wavering hands.

The shirt went first, finally dropping down to the floor. Waylon toed off his shoes then peeled off his socks. Then, he focused on his jeans. He’d never really enjoyed wearing tight jeans, but these frumpy things always left a bit to be desired. Eddie never really seemed to care, because it was what was _underneath_ the clothes that he cared so much about seeing. It was always such a sight to watch Waylon tug at his jeans, unbuttoning them, pulling the zipper down.

Already, Eddie could see the peak of dark blue stretched tightly over Waylon’s straining cock. As Waylon worked his jeans down over his hips, the lacy pair of panties he’d chosen became more and more apparent. They hugged him perfectly, just big enough to cover him, but small enough to leave nothing to the imagination. There was already a wet spot forming on the front of the panties, and Waylon even had the audacity to blush.

“Such a minx, darling,” Eddie encouraged. “Come. Let me have you.”

“Don’t you want me to—?”

“Was I unclear?” Eddie offered a smile that was anything but sweet. “I would say you’re mind to unwrap, are you not? Come.” He gestured for Waylon to return to his lap.

Waylon closed the distance quickly, fitting himself back into Eddie’s lap. Eddie held him close, his arms low around Waylon’s hips so he could grab Waylon’s cheeks through his panties and pull him open. Waylon shuddered so beautiful for him; his lips parted in his breathy little gasp.

“I’m feeling a bit generous today,” Eddie admitted. “I might like to see you struggle, but you did interrupt a rather private moment. I think it’s only fair that we get to fixing that, hm?”

Waylon nodded. “I’ll do anything, Eddie.” He wrapped his arms around Eddie’s neck, pressing close to him. He ground their cocks together, and with the silky fabric between them, even Eddie couldn’t contain a shuddering breath.

Eddie really didn’t have the patience to play, anymore. Waylon was needy, wanton, and begging in his lap. Eddie wasn’t about to deny him anything, not when he was desperate for release, himself. Waylon had interrupted what was sure to be a show-stopping orgasm. He owed Eddie.

Waylon gasped when Eddie grabbed at him, surged up to plant Waylon flat on his back against the couch. Waylon wrapped his legs around Eddie, instinctively, but Eddie unwrapped him and spread him open. Eddie ran his hands up the smooth skin of Waylon’s thighs, perfectly hairless just for him. Waylon trembled through the touch, his cock straining through the fabric of his panties. He rolled his hips, trying to direct Eddie’s attention—take the panties off, to _touch_ him.

Eddie went straight for the touching. He leaned down between Waylon’s thighs and mouthed over his cock, through the soft fabric of his panties. Waylon’s hips jerked immediately, his jaw falling open in a silent moan. Oh, Eddie’s mouth worked over him like he was starved, feeling out the outline of Waylon’s cock with nothing but the touch of his lips. And then his tongue—his _tongue_ lapping over where he’d assumed the tip to be. God, was Eddie accurate. Waylon groaned, bucking his hips into Eddie’s mouth.

With the added saliva and the dripping slick from Waylon’s cock, the panties were ruined, stained, and clinging uncomfortably to every inch of him. Eddie didn’t stop to care, though. He kept up his ministrations, feeling up Waylon’s thighs as he did. Waylon was trembling under his touch, his cock twitching and begging for more contact. With a sudden rush of pleasure, Eddie’s tongue right over the slit of his cock, Waylon’s hands jolted to find purchase in Eddie’s hair. Eddie’s hair was always so nice and proper—messing it up a bit was never far from Waylon’s plans.

Without hesitation, Eddie pulled Waylon’s hands away from his hair and pressed them into his chest, where he could hold them still with one hand. With his other hand, Eddie peeled Waylon’s panties down until he could tuck them beneath Waylon’s sac.

“We’ll get you shaved here, next,” Eddie said. “Make you into a beautiful little girl again.”

Waylon shivered. “Eddie—”

Eddie hushed him. “Good girls don’t speak out of turn, Waylon. Behave yourself.”

Waylon bit down on his bottom lip and closed his eyes. Eddie rewarded his diligence with a sudden lick along the underside of his cock. Waylon’s hips bucked on their own, and Eddie hummed with his amusement. He wrapped his lips around the side of Waylon’s cock and bobbing his head along. He pressed his tongue against the heated skin, listening to the way Waylon keened in response. He was being so well-behaved that Eddie even let his hands go; Waylon kept them right where they were, folded up on his chest.

Eddie hummed against Waylon’s cock. He finally offered himself a bit of reprieve, reaching down to grab his own cock. He stroked himself, slowly, as he sunk down over the head of Waylon’s prick. Waylon’s hips bucked in response, and Eddie groaned around him. It was everything he could do not to come, immediately, squeezing at the base of his cock like that might hold him off.

He gave Waylon the attention he needed, no matter how ready he was to just flip Waylon over and fuck him. He bobbed his head over Waylon’s cock, sucking over the head, running his tongue over the tip and down the underside. Waylon’s body was trembling by the time Eddie pulled away, wiping at his chin and the dripping saliva. Waylon’s cock was an angry red, desperate for release. Eddie might have even felt bad for him, if he wasn’t in worse straits.

“On your front, Waylon,” Eddie ordered, tapping his hip. “Let’s see your precious little cunt.”

Waylon rolled onto his front, shifting until he was up on his knees with his face resting on the cushions. He spread his knees apart as wide as he could, arching his back to present himself to Eddie. Eddie pulled the panties to the side, humming appreciatively and running his hands over Waylon’s cheeks, grabbing each in his hands to pull him open and look at his quivering little hole. Waylon shivered at the rush of air against him.

“Wonderful, darling,” Eddie told him. “Such a perfect little quim for a perfect little girl. We’ll open you right up and make a nice, warm place for me to sink into. Would you like that, darling?”

Waylon nodded hurriedly. “Please, Eddie.”

Eddie leaned down to lick over Waylon’s hole, once, twice, before pulling back. He tugged the panties aside, again, making sure there was plenty of room to work with. Then, he leaned off to the side. They were in Eddie’s whorehouse—lubricant was never very far away. Eddie grabbed for a bottle and made a generous drop over his fingers.

He wasted no time pressing the slick over Waylon’s hole. Waylon’s hole quivered and clenched underneath the touch, but Waylon moaned. He was desperate for it and worked his hips back to entice Eddie further. Eddie couldn’t deny either of them for a moment longer. He pressed one, thick finger right into Waylon. Waylon opened up for him beautifully, clenching around his finger like he was trying to bring him in further, deeper. _More_. Eddie obliged.

He worked his finger through Waylon quickly, keeping one hand over Waylon’s ass. He needed Waylon spread open and beautiful for him, and Waylon was cooperating _wonderfully_. He worked his hips back to meet Eddie’s finger, and when Eddie worked a second finger into him, he moaned. He pushed his hips back, bending his back _farther_ like he might entice Eddie to work faster. Eddie just chuckled at him and leaned down to press a kiss into the small of his back.

“Patience, darling, patience. This is such a delicate process; we can’t rush it.”

Waylon whined, but he didn’t argue. He waited as patiently as he could, moaning and rocking his hips, until Eddie was working him open on three fingers. Waylon moaned for it, the stretch and the burn that worked through his hips. His cock was hard, leaking down a mess over the couch cushions, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. He _needed_ more. He worked his hips back on Eddie’s fingers, begging for it. More, _more_ —

Eddie pulled his fingers back and delivered a firm slap to Waylon’s ass. That was his warning to behave, or Eddie would revert to his original plan. He would rub himself off and leave Waylon covered in a mess of his cum. As much as Waylon loved the idea of it, being Eddie’s personal cum dump, he needed that cock inside of him more than he needed to feel Eddie’s spend on his skin.

“You look delicious, darling,” Eddie said.

He shifted Waylon’s panties once more, then grabbed him by the hips and flattened him down into the couch. Waylon gasped; his cock was pressed between his stomach and the couch, and it was exactly the kind of friction, the right kind of pressure. He was going to come before Eddie even pressed inside of him, at this rate. But he held on a little longer, gripping into the couch cushions as Eddie got himself ready.

Eddie took the time to bare himself, shedding his trousers, his underwear, and his shirt.

“My love,” Eddie breathed, running his hands over Waylon’s back. “Would you like me to use a condom, tonight? Or would you rather I fill you with my seed? You’ll have to suffer that mess until we go home, but you’ve always been strong, for me.”

Waylon shuddered. “Fill me,” he begged. “Please, Eddie, come inside of me.”

“Such a good girl,” Eddie hummed.

Eddie kept Waylon still with a hand on his hips and a hand pressed into the back of his head. Waylon was almost entirely restrained, and then, only then, did Eddie press into him. It was a slow, purposeful press of his hips, sinking down into Waylon’s welcoming, dripping hole. Waylon always split open so beautifully for Eddie’s cock, and he was, by no means, an easy accommodation. Eddie soothed a hand over Waylon’s back while he pressed into him, slowly, carefully, and Waylon moaned through every second of it.

Waylon broke off into a senseless babble of pleas and Eddie’s name. When Eddie’s hips were pressed flush against him, Waylon finally relaxed. He didn’t relax for long, because he couldn’t. There was such an overwhelming feeling of fullness, with Eddie so deep inside of him. He was helpless but to try and work his hips back, to fuck himself deeper—as if it were even possible. But Eddie has a firm press on his head, keeping him from moving too far, too close.

Eddie started to roll his hips, grinding into Waylon, and the little noises that broke from Waylon’s throat were worth every patient second. It kept Waylon spread out and open, moaning and crying out from the intense pleasure of it. There was a fire burning up from it; the way that Eddie moved his hips was enticing, expert, and it ground Waylon’s cock into the cushion at the same time. He couldn’t keep himself quiet, and there was no sense in it. Eddie wrenched his head back to hear his cries better.

“I want to hear you _scream_ for me, darling,” Eddie growled at him.

That was the only waring got before Eddie pulled back and snapped his hips forward. He set a brutal, punishing pace, fucking into Waylon with unchecked fervor. Their skin slapped together, and the noises were obscene. Filling the space between them. Waylon cried out with each snap of Eddie’s hips, the stretch around his cock—everything all at once. Waylon didn’t know where to focus between the pressure on his cock, the fullness inside of him.

Eddie didn’t let him, taking a tight grip in Waylon’s hair and pressing his face into the couch. He grounded himself with a hand on Waylon’s hips, a bruising hold on him. Waylon was helpless to do anything but lay there and take every brutal thrust Eddie gave him, and he _loved_ it. He groaned, cried out with Eddie’s cockhead brushed into his prostate. The starts that flashed through his vision were blinding, and the white fire of pleasure was thrumming through his body, unstoppable.

“Eddie, Eddie—” Waylon gasped. He was close, _already_. He never lasted long when Eddie took him like this: hard, fast, and without apology.

“Patience, darling,” Eddie groaned. “When I tell you.”

Waylon nodded, desperate to comply. He worked his hips back, the best that he could, and Eddie rewarded him with sharp, powerful thrusts. His thrusts were stuttered, his rhythm faltering. Waylon took advantage of it, grinding over Eddie’s cock, clenching down around him. Eddie could feel it; Eddie knew exactly what Waylon was doing, but he was too far gone to care. He leaned down to press his lips into Waylon’s neck. Any other time he would jump at the chance to chastise Waylon for his behavior, but at that moment, Eddie needed his release as badly as Waylon wanted to give it to him.

“Such a good girl,” Eddie gasped. “Working so hard for me, aren’t you? Yes—yes,” Eddie broke off into a loud groan, grinding into Waylon.

That only fueled Waylon’s fire, and it went straight to his cock. He was close. So close. Every drag of Eddie’s cock over his prostate was another step closer, and Eddie was groaning right into his ear. Oh, he couldn’t take it anymore. Waylon let out a loud cry when he came, clenching down around Eddie’s cock. Eddie followed right after, the pressure of Waylon around him simply too much to bear. He groaned into Waylon’s ear as he came, hips bucking as he pumped stream after stream of hot spend into him.

It lasted for what felt like hours, their mutual bliss. Eddie had grabbed Waylon’s hand, through it, intertwining their fingers as they rode out their orgasms. The pleasure had crested, mounted, and fallen all over in the span of moments. Eddie let out a final, shuddering breath with his forehead pressed right between Waylon’s shoulders.

“Beautiful,” Eddie muttered, kissing Waylon’s skin. “You know I love you, darling, don’t you? My work could never replace you.”

“I know,” Waylon replied, breathless. “I love you, too, Eddie, but can you get off me? You’re heavy.” Waylon let out a small laugh.

Eddie kissed him on the temple before obliging and pulling back. He lingered just to watch the initial drip of spend from Waylon’s hole, and then he snapped the panties back into place.

“I know it’ll be uncomfortable,” Eddie said, “but you must bear with it. Just until we get home, Waylon.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re always so formal,” Waylon hummed. He pushed himself up and straightened up the front of his panties, shifting until he was up on his knees.

Waylon gave Eddie one look before he was dropping down to take Eddie’s softening cock into his mouth. Eddie gasped, gripping Waylon’s hair, but he didn’t pull Waylon back. He sat there, trembling as Waylon sucked over his cock, licking the slick from it—cleaning him without having even been asked. He didn’t stay long enough for Eddie to find himself hard and eager, again, but that didn’t matter. It was the gesture.

When Waylon pulled back, wiping at his mouth, Eddie pulled him into a quick kiss. As always, Eddie was left in awe of the things Waylon would do for him. His whores were predictable—they did what they were told. Waylon did what he was told, but always with just the right twinge of himself. It was always charming, and always wonderful. That didn’t mean he was entirely ready to give up on the rise he could get out of Waylon, though. It was just far too fun to press at his buttons.

**Author's Note:**

> 𓆏 Froge Bounces 𓆏  
> [Check me out on Tumblr!](https://tantumuna.tumblr.com)  
> [My Twitter!](https://twitter.com/tantumunawrites)  
> 


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